


The first sunrays

by BookSongs



Series: Тоска (Toska) - Aching of the Soul & Longing for the impossible [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1781, Gen, Historical Hetalia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 12:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11104743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookSongs/pseuds/BookSongs
Summary: And there's so much still waiting for the young nation, so much he hasn't seen yet.So many people he hasn't met yet.But each day brings something new."We live, we die. Somewhere along the way, if we're lucky, we may find someone to help lighten the road. - Justin Cronin"





	The first sunrays

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm finally back from the dead and this is the beginning of a long term project in which I shall trail US-Russian relations from their early days onwards till more recently. - So it'll be a series of drabbles some multi-chaptered on RusAme and their relationship throughout their complex and complicated history.
> 
> If I have made any grammatical mistake or overlooked a typo in my writings I'd appreciate any message.
> 
> Thanks for reading this short note and I hope you'll enjoy the drabble

_We live, we die. Somewhere along the way, if we're lucky, we may find someone to help lighten the road. - Justin Cronin, American author_

 

August, 1781

 

"But I thought we came here to see Catherine.", groaned the young blonde, fidgeting with the buttons on his deep blue velvet frock coat. Waiting before the office of the French ambassador, his impatience was getting the better of him, just as his annoyance at the current situation.

"We have been over this, Alfred. You're lucky you get to see St. Petersburg at all."

"When me and Dana-" "Dana and me; manners, Amérique, manners" "When Dana and me were sent abroad the plan was to ask for an audience with Catherine. Now I'm here and I'm just supposed to go back now? I haven't even met this 'Russia'-guy yet"

"Would you stop arguing for a little and just be grateful I took you here nevertheless."

The younger blonde grumbled a few cursewords under his breath, quietly aknowledging his defeat.

  
The other man in the room, taller and of a natural beauty so completely unlike his younger companion, was right. Upon their arrival in Paris everyone seemed to think sending the reckless American alongside Dana now that he should keep a low profile and thus abstain from demanding any audience with the Russian ruler had been a bad idea. If it wasn't for France America would have been sent back to the colonies on the first French ship heading there. Hearing he would accompany France, the younger had been ecstatic.  
But now that the brash nation had arrived in this new land, he became increasingly frustrated with the thought of leaving the country before he had even met the nation by the name of 'Russia'.

Too late did any dispatches reach the travellers, hence they had already been in Paris when both nations and their mundane companions learnt that the diplomatic mission itself was to be on hold for now. Dana should still go to St. Petersburg but he was not to act unless the French deemed it the right moment.

America had complained for hours, until France had finally given in and convinced the present American and French diplomats that it'd be better if America wouldn't travel without another nation accompanying him, therefore he would have to follow the older nation around and come to the Russian capital where France was to meet his ambassador before returning to the colonies.  


America sighed. Sightseeing had been lovely so far, but it was just that after all. He had come to meet the Russian empress and her nation, not to admire the local architecture.

Meeting nations had something exciting about it. It gave him the feeling as if his independence was just lurking around the corner. As if he and his people finally could determine themselves with whom to trade and who they would like to ally with. - It felt as if he was no longer dependent on England.

He felt recognised as himself in a way.

And if Russia didn't happen to be just like England, he'd be a great guy, right? - Well yes on their way to Paris France had said very confusing things about the Russian, but he didn't seemed to resemble England that much, if at all. So Alfred should be fine. Albeit what if he did? Would he want to restrict America this much as well? Wait could he even do that? Maybe he wouldn't like America, what then? Would he-

America's train of thought came to a halt when the wooden oak door to his right swung open and a man stepped out.

Upon spotting the two nations the man's face soured a little and for a second it looked as if he was about to roll his eyes with ostentation. Instead with a stern look on his face he waved Francis towards and into the room he had just emerged from.

The nation stood from the lounge he and America had sat upon when the other quietly raised his voice to a whisper.  


"That guy doesn't look very nice."  
"Ah, I'm afraid Veraq may not have gotten message from Paris that you'd come after all. But don't worry about it.", Francis quickly replied.

"But-"

"Alfred, I'll go speak with him now. You'll stay here, d'accord? No wandering. No one is supposed to know you're here. At least this time"

"Yeah fine", answered Alfred annoyed.

And before the younger could add anything Francis had already crossed the room and vanished into the neighbouring room, leaving the other to himself.

  
Still grumbling Alfred looked around the room. It was lavishly decorated and not a single thing within the room didn't look as if it belonged to some king or queen.  
Two velvet lounges, both of a wine red colour adorned by flowery patterns just like the one he was sitting on, stood right across the room. A painting hung above them showing the Russian empress – as France had explained - in a luxurious white ball gown. While the Frenchman had praised the artist's talents and told America about current European fashion, the younger couldn't for his life see anything special about the portrait. Yeah maybe he had been dozing off at Francis' explaination as well.

And so the other had just kept talking about dozens of details that America had apparently missed, while the other tried his best at not yawning at the long monologue.

They had waited for what had felt like an eternity, even though it had only been a few minutes. But the young blonde felt compelled to do something, anything actually, that wasn't just sitting still and waiting around for Francis to finish his diplomatic business. Not only because it was boring but it meant they'd leave soon, and frankly that was the one thing he did _not_ want to.

Scanning his surroundings again for anything that may keep his mind occupied his eyes fell upon a discarded book lying not far from him on a small wooden table.  
But to his disappointment it was a collection of French poems that Francis had shoved into his face repeatedly telling him he should read it to educate himself.

  
America let out a frustrated sigh and began playing with the buttons of his coat again. The other had scolded him for it earlier but well now he wasn't here so-

And with a sudden snap America ripped off one of the silver buttons adorning his cuffs, dropping to the floor and in the blink of an eye vanishing underneath the lounge.

Immediately Alfred stopped his fidgeting.

 

"Oh god, shit, shit, shit."

 

In one swift motion he jumped to his feet and quickly bent down to get the button back, Francis would be angry enough already without the little silver thing gone missing.

Blindly he began feeling around for the object while cursing as if there was no tomorrow.

Yet somehow he couldn't seem to find the button.  
He was just about to lower himself to the ground even further to get a better glimpse beneath the lounge even if that meant he might dirty his face and anger France a little more by ruining his hair, but it was probably still better than loosing the object, when he registered that the door was being opened.

He shot up, hastily scrambling onto his feet again while trying to wipe his coat a little. Inwardly praying Francis would not be too angry with him, or at least not for too long, he nearly didn't notice that it wasn't the door to the ambassador's office that opened but rather the one he had come in through earlier with the Frenchman.  
  


When the realisation hit, his eyes widened as a very tall and pale man entered.

Struggling to find the words – and what should he even say?; He didn't knew anyone here and there was the possibility that unlike him the other actually belonged here... - Alfred instead froze in his spot and continued to stare at the other.  
  


He was extraordinary tall, indeed one of the tallest people he had ever seen in his life. His hair was of a bright greyish-blonde colour, something Alfred had not yet seen, just like the burning purple eyes that seemed to see right into him.

America couldn't explain what the feeling was, but even with all of his focus only on the looks of the other, he felt as if there was something off about him. As if he wasn't quite as mundane as his physique initially would suggest.

What he did know was that a slight feeling of anguish began creeping up on him.

Alfred was just about to piece together what it was that irritated him so enormously when the stranger raised his voice.  
  


"I knew Francis had brought someone else with him.", he murmured to himself as he inspected Alfred further.  
  
Humming to himself the other approached the American carefully while not taking his eyes off of him. Shrinking underneath the others gayze, it was as if he every single inch of him was being scrutinised under the consistent gaze of the possible intruder.  
  


"So you are the one giving Anglia all this trouble at the moment, da?"  
  


Alfred felt himself stiffen at the unexpected address. Inhaling a deep breath he tried and failed to calm himself a little and just stammered one word:  
  


"What?"  
  


"You must be America, I assume. It's the only explaination as to why Francis would accompany you and why I wouldn't be informed of your arrival."  
  


"I...-"  
  


"I'm Russia, or as I call myself Русское царство, I believe we haven't met yet."  
  


"You are-? You're a nation too?", Alfred bursted out all of sudden.  
  


The other chuckled a little at his reaction, then bowed forward a little to nearly be at eye level with the younger.  
  


"Da, and by your reaction I suppose you are as well?"  
  


"I- Yes, yes I am, I am. Uhm yes America, well actually the United States of America."  
  


A small smile made it's way unto the man's face and he extended his hand towards the blonde. And while it didn't resemble the way any other nation he had met greeted him, Alfred concluded it to be genuine.

Actually Russia seemed very nice so far.

He accepted the other's hand and shook it as he hoped neither too softly nor too crushing as he had accidentially done with Francis' hand when they had first met.  
  


Cold. Russia's hands were exceptionally cold.  
  


"Are your hands always like this?", it escaped Alfred bluntly, "Uhm so cold I mean."  
  


The other cocked his head the smile vanishing.  
  


"Oh god sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, I wasn't trying to- Sorry.", Alfred stuttered in sheer panic at realising what he had said while his face began turning bright red.

"Francis told me I should be more careful with my manners and here I am and-"  
  


But his sudden outbreak was interrupted when the older suddenly began chuckling.

The American felt how irritation yet again threatened to take over whatever was still left of his rational side when Russia abruptly lay his hand upon one of Alfred's shoulders.  
  


"Don't worry little one. It's fine. - It's just been ages since someone asked me this.", the tall man said with a tinge of humour lacing his deep voice.  
  


"Little one?", blurted America in a high pitched voice.  
  


Was Russia mocking him?

 

"Da, a cute little nation.", Russia smiled.  
  


"I'm not small!", America exclaimed a little more fiercely than intended.  
  


"I'm not mocking you, Amerika, you're still young. But with that spirit of yours I think you may be able to grow. Maybe I'll call you something different then.", snickered the other.

But it wasn't a derisive snicket, it was honest amusement at the situation.  
  


"I'll grow. You'll see.", gloated Alfred.  
  


The Russian released his shoulder again and straightened himself to his full height again.

He gave the blonde a small but kind smile.  
  


"We will see.", he replied without any sarcasm in his voice.  
  


Out of sudden Alfred didn't know what to answer, he hadn't expected such kindness from this foreign nation and yet here he was.

His toe-caps seemed so interesting asudden.

The Russian on the other hand conveyed the impression as if he was just fine with the awkward silence that surrounded the two.  
  


"Uhm what is your name? I haven't asked you, I hope that wasn't rude or anything...", Alfred more whispered than said but the other picked up on the words.  
  


"I told you my name."  
  


"No, no I mean your human name, like I am Al-", before he could finish his sentence a hand was pressed to his mouth.  
  


"Nyet little one. Our human names are not something to simply disclose to every nation you meet. Anglia and Frantsia should have told you that.", the Russian hushed him, "And as far as I know you shouldn't be here, and while I'd very much like to get to know you, this is neither the place nor the time. We can talk about this again in the future."

And with that the taller removed his hand again.  
  


"The future?"  
  


"Well you're still not fully free, da? - And I have yet to welcome you as a nation and so has my empress.", Russia explained.  
  


"Oh", America didn't want to say it but somehow this disappointed him a little, but his face fell at the words of the other.  
  


Normally Russia hated sharing anything with any other nation. He liked having his secrets, but somehow the smaller one intrigued him in an unexpected way. A nation still so innocent any young, so childish and naive, but certainly not stupid nor weak.

And yet he felt compelled to make an exception.  
  


"I promise you I'll tell you when you'll come here with your first ambassador."  
  


Alfred's face lightened up again.  
  


"Promise?", he inquired quickly.  
  


"Promise, little one."  


***

Russia had left America more or less immediately afterwards explaining that while he'd like to talk some more he had his duties as nation to attend to.

And not long after the Russian left France reemerged from the bureau.  
  


Alfred as expected was given a dressing-down by Francis as soon as he heard that the button had gone missing, but somehow the American found himself barely bothered by it.  
  


It felt as if he had found a new friend today. - A quite special friend, completely unlike Prussia or France, and yet still treating him with respect like the two.  
  


But he hadn't told France, something told him the other wouldn't be happy to hear that he had met the other nation.  
  


"R-U-S-S-I-A.", Alfred murmured, emphasising every single letter, "I hope we'll meet soon again."  
  


He stood on the deck of a French ship taking him and France back to the States where he'd soon join his people in the fight against the English again.

Francis was with the captain and had promised to give him a few more French lessons later – because what else was there to do on the long journey back to the US – which reminded the young one -  
  


"Oh god I completely forgot asking him what this 'da' and 'nyet' meant!"

 

**Author's Note:**

> In August 1781 the US sent their first minister to Russia to St. Petersburg, Francis Dana, however upon arriving in France Dana and fellow Americans including John Quincy Adams who was accompanying Dana learnt that their mission had been changed and they were not to engage in direct diplomatic business yet.  
> A large part in this decision had the French as the main European ally of the United States at the time.  
> Russia at the time saw no need to recognise the revolting colonies as independent state and the Russian empress Catherine also had no intention of recognising the colony before the British themselves would have done so and therefore (albeit not exclusively) it'd take a lot longer till the United States would be officially recognised by the Russian empire.
> 
> In the end the mission ended in a complete failure and nearly exactly two years after he had first arrived Dana and his entourage left St. Petersburg without ever having met Catherine.  
> Dana left Russia in outrage at the Russian court life marked with bribes and a sense of irresponsibility.
> 
> However the Russians did scramble to get Dana an audience with the empress when he announced his intention to leave the country, yet he didn't took them up on the offer.
> 
> ***  
> Just in case
> 
> Amèrique (fr.) - America  
> D'accord (fr.) - Okay/Understood  
> Нет - Nyet (ru.) - No  
> Да - Da (ru.) - Yes  
>   
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated <3


End file.
